Home at Last
by Slytherin Sister
Summary: Light discovers that mu isn't, in fact, the final word. An epilogue, of sorts, to the Death Note series. Spoilers for the whole series. Chapter 7 is up, with a short reference to the old TV show Columbo.
1. Chapter 1

**Home at Last – Chapter 1**

Awareness returned gradually. It started with the pains in his skull, a sense of sharp rocks or broken shells gouging into it. Not only his skull, he began to realize, but his shoulders, buttocks, and ankles—wherever a supine body would touch the ground. Consciousness followed slowly on awareness, with some semi-conscious instinct bidding him neither to move nor to open his eyes. An unfocused impression of recent—very recent—events engulfed him: violence, mad confusion, searing pain, horrible revelations, and worst of all, defeat. His mind went to work on sorting out and focusing the scenes, then recoiled in frightened panic as they became clearer.

No. Not that. Anything but that. His mind pushed back, trying to blur the memory once again. At all costs he would bar from his consciousness the wrenching reality of it. That agile mind, which had never let him down, now cast about frantically for the convincing denial that it could surely conjure up. A dream?—no. An illusion?—no. Yet even as he hit upon the best explanation—that his habit had always been to consider the worst that could happen—he knew it wouldn't work. Nausea swept over him. He would remain motionless, eyes closed, distracting his thoughts.

But that didn't work either. He felt bound and suffocated, and in any case could not ignore the pervasive odor, not so much foul as musty, stuffy, reminiscent of old, disintegrating books. Sooner or later he would have to move, would have to open his eyes, and then his senses would confirm the ghastly truth that his mind could neither bear nor avoid.

Reluctantly he opened his eyes, and for one merciful instant found reassurance in what anyone else would hardly find a reassuring vision. His heart surged in grateful relief to see the grotesque face of Ryuk, the sight he had awakened to nearly every day for six years. Everything was OK after all.

"Well, Sleeping Beauty," chuckled the shinigami, "'bout time you woke up! Are you planning on lounging there all day?"

Now he hesitantly shifted his shoulders. The broken shells beneath him inflicted fresh pain as he lifted his arms. But these weren't **his** arms—the reptilian limbs that met his eyes were sheathed in dull, brick-red scales and ended in gnarled, contorted claws. He made a fist, and saw, as if an apparition, the claw contracting into a ball. He touched the claw to his left biceps, which felt the contact as his own skin. Letting out a strangled shriek, and heeding the pain no longer, he sat bolt upright. A single glance at his legs disclosed the same hideous transformation. Ryuk watched with that look of placid amusement that had so often infuriated him.

The surface of the ground, he discovered to his horror, was littered, not with rocks or shells, but with cracked and splintered bones. Panting hard, and gazing around in bottomless dismay, he beheld overhead a featureless gray sky, from which diffused a meager half-light. The landscape curved slightly upward from where he sat, revealing at varying distances misshapen crags, gloomy mesas, grim piles of white and gray stone. Close by, a dark cliff rose in broad steps to a jagged, broken peak fifty feet above. A few scraggly bushes and twisted trees, themselves mostly gray and brown, poked up forlornly from the otherwise barren ground.

Pleading, desperate, almost sobbing, he turned back to Ryuk.

"Ryuk, where…?"

The death god threw his head back, wagged it from side to side, and cackled insanely. Then he stopped, looked straight at him, and drew in far too close. "Welcome to your new, eternal home, Light Yagami!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Home at Last – Chapter 2**

Sick with shock, Light stared back at Ryuk, searching in vain for any sign of sympathy or pity, any indication that this was all an elaborate joke. The shock swept away the last defenses his mind had erected against the crushing tidal wave of memories of his last moments in mortal life. They piled on him in tangled disorder: his exposure as Kira, his mounting panic culminating in madness, Matsuda, that naïve simpleton, having the nerve to shoot him; Mikami, his most loyal follower, renouncing and insulting him. Misa, that thankless wench, where had she been? And Kyomi, after all he'd done for her? Defeat—defeat at the hands of that smug, sweet-faced, arrogant brat Near. Ryuk—wasn't Ryuk supposed to be his friend?—scribbling away amid a volley of useless bullets, then brandishing the death note in his face, with his name written large across the page. Finally, 40 seconds later, the searing, piercing pain in his heart, just before everything went black.

Slowly Light rose to a stooping posture, his breath coming in ragged, gasping sobs. He suddenly stood up straight, arched his back, and spread out those ugly reptilian arms.

"No! No! Please, please, no! No!…"

He started stamping the ground, alternately holding his head and spreading his arms, all the while screaming his horrified disbelief.

As Light continued to pour out his despair, a short, squat shinagami clad in green rags approached the scene. His head was a wolf skull partially covered with skin and rotted fur.

"Yo, Ryuk! Welcome home! Another newbie, huh?" The husky, rasping voice carried a note of irritation.

"Hey, Klarb. Yeah, just got here. He'll be okay in a day or two."

"Well, shut him up, will you? Some of us are trying to get a nap in."

"Aah, quit whining. It's not like you have to squeeze it in among all your pressing social engagements."

Klarb grunted and trudged off again.

At length, spent, Light collapsed to his hands and knees among the bones. Their sharp edges lacerated even his tough skin, but he paid little notice. Exhaustion brought with it a welcome mental and emotional numbness. He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. So this was his reward for selflessly ridding the Earth of evil. Some day those ingrates would recognize his greatness and his sacrifice, perhaps raise up a cult to him. Besides, the death notes were still down there, weren't they? Maybe some new Kira would arise to take up his noble work once more. Maybe they'd let him haunt this new Kira. Maybe…but his thoughts went no further.

Light stood up again, shoulders slumped, and looked dejectedly up at Ryuk.

Ryuk shook his head and returned Light's gaze with a reproachful one of his own.

"So, you got it out of your system, eh? That was quite a tantrum. Then again, you've always been a spoiled rotten little…"

"Shut up, Ryuk," Light snapped sullenly. "Even a block of wood like you should be able to figure out what a horrendous shock this is."

"A shock? I told you in the very beginning you'd go neither to heaven nor to hell when you died. Where'd you think you'd go, Tahiti?"

Light glowered at him resentfully. "Har, har. How could you do that to me, after all we went through together?"

Ryuk shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm a shinigami—that's what we do. Pretty soon you'll know what I mean. You were a human so recently, you still think and feel like one."

The offhand remark sent another shaft of panicked dismay through Light. His eyes grew wide and his throat dried up and constricted. He could barely get the words out.

"Whadaya mean, '**Were** human?' I **am** human, and always will be!"

Ryuk sighed and assumed an air of long-suffering patience. "No, you're not. You're a shinigami now, and always will be—" He spoke the last four words mockingly. "Come to think of it, I doubt you **were **human all that recently. I think you lost your humanity years ago. You just have the right appearance now."

He began cackling again, laughing the harder at the expression of stupefied horror on Light's face. Thunderstruck, Light grappled with this latest appalling revelation. Until now, he had unconsciously clung for comfort to the thought that at least he was a human in the midst of these monsters, that he didn't really belong in this grim place, that he was exiled from his real home. Now even that comfort was stripped from him. He was cut off from his own people, his race, his species, even his home planet. A wave of homesickness, and of longing for what had been, surged through him. Emotions he had been too busy to notice, too wrapped up in his obsession with his grandiose ambitions to be able to feel, pierced him through. What he wouldn't give to see Mom, and Sayu, again. Even that pest Misa. To walk around in a human body back in Japan, LA, anywhere on Earth.

But he wasn't even related to them anymore. This was now his real home. These were now his people.

"No. No, it can't be…" he started sobbing.

Suddenly, Ryuk drew back his fist, and punched Light squarely in the mouth. Light staggered backward and fell to the ground.

He sat up, his dismay changed instantly to a red rage. "What was that for?" he yelled.

"I've seen enough self-pitying waterworks out of you for one day. You have all eternity to feel sorry for yourself, so don't do it all at once. It's bad enough I have to baby-sit you until you get acclimated."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Light snarled irritably, as he picked himself painfully up from the bones.

"The old man established some procedures when you former humans started coming in regularly. Until a few years ago, we only got one every century or so, so we just improvised. But your crowd traded ownership of the death notes like they were Pokémon cards. And then of course the lot of you started dying. Death note owners don't survive very long on Earth, you know…"

"No, I didn't know that, you slimeball!" Light interrupted furiously. "I figured on 60 or 70 years, and most of that time would have been as a god ruling over a perfect world! Why didn't you say something?"

Ryuk chuckled again. "You never asked. Did you think I was your fairy godmother who had an obligation to make your egotistical little fantasies come true? You were never interested in anybody but yourself. Anyway, these procedures…"

"Forget your precious procedures! I was totally selfless, I wfff…"

Light was abruptly silenced as Ryuk hastily clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Now you listen to me, Light," he hissed, getting into his face again. "I don't get serious very often, but you crossed a line there, and we could both get in big trouble for it. You don't ridicule the old man or any of his rules. He's the shinigami king. You think you're unhappy now, just get him mad. It'll make everything you've been boo-hooing about **really** look like Tahiti. Got that?"

Eyes widened in surprise, Light nodded.

"Good." Ryuk removed his hand, noting with approval that Light was reasonably chastened—and scared. "Now, these **pro-ce-dures** basically involve a new shinigami having a mentor for a while until he gets settled in. The mentor shows the newbie the ropes, gets him outfitted with a death note, teaches him the rules, and so on. He's also responsible for the newbie's conduct until he gets relieved from duty. Three guesses who the lucky mentor is that's gotten stuck with **you**!"

Light stared blankly at Ryuk, almost gazing past him. He changed the subject. "Why did you lie to me?" he demanded dully.

"Lie to you? About what?"

"When we first met. You said death was the great equalizer. Everybody got the same nothingness after death."

Ryuk shrugged. "Well, sheesh, I was just trying to be nice."

"**You**? Nice?"

"Yeah. I had to tell you about not going to heaven or hell—that's one thing we have to tell the human who picks up a death note. But we don't have to say where you do go. I mean, look at the way you've been carrying on since you got here, you big crybaby. Would you want to have known all along you were coming here when you died?"

Light looked down at his scaly, webbed feet, and sighed. "No, maybe not."

"Besides," Ryuk continued, "People who despair of an afterlife are a lot more fun during mortal life. They want to squeeze everything they can out of worldly things and opportunities before the nothingness sets in. You and your goofy illusions about being a god, all your complicated schemes, that was a blast! I had a great time the last six years. Not to mention plenty of nice, juicy apples."

Light sneered sardonically. "Speaking of people who only think of themselves…"

Ryuk grinned slightly. " Well, let's get started." He raised a chain hanging at his side, pulling up with it his death note and alongside it what appeared to be a tiny black address book. Light had never noticed it before. He peered at it curiously.

"What's that teeny little book?"

"My procedures checklist. This is my first time as a mentor, and I don't remember all the steps off the top of my head." He stooped a bit to squint at the miniscule lettering. " Lessee…oh, yeah, first stop is…"

He stopped abruptly, and jerked his head up. He let the chain fall from his grasp as he gazed, slack-jawed, at the sky.

Light had seen it too, and his eyes widened in astonishment as a brilliant, sparkling shaft of white light pierced the bleak uniformity of the sky, coming to rest on the lowest step of the nearby cliff, about ten feet above the ground. It shed what seemed like glitter, which fell, glowing from within, among the bones. Tiny jeweled facets scattered the glow, carpeting the surface underfoot for a considerable distance with a riot of colored streaks of light.

And now, descending in graceful arcs along the glimmering beam of light, came a shining winged being, almost too bright to look at. A single pulse of its wings brought it to a halt just above the spot illuminated by the beam, where it hovered for a second or two. Finally it came to rest on that lowest step of the cliff and sat hunched over like a radiant gargoyle, its bare toes jutting out over the edge of the rock.


	3. Chapter 3

Home at Last – Chapter 3

The radiance emanating from the being diminished slowly but not completely, the pure white light giving way to color and texture. Half-surrounded by its iridescent wings, the apparition was in the form and size of a young man with thick, rather shaggy, black hair. It was loosely clad in what seemed like a white shirt over blue jeans, and hugged its knees as it perched at the edge of the cliff step.

For a few seconds, it rested its head on its knees, keeping its face down. It then raised its head and fixed its gaze on Light. Despite the glow that continued to shine from him, and an ethereal quality to his very presence, there was no mistaking his features, especially the large, owlish eyes.

"Long time, no see, Light Yagami," he greeted him cheerfully. There was no mistaking the voice either.

Light's jaw dropped in amazement. "**L**?!"

L grinned. "Well, obviously. On the other hand, it's not so obvious at first sight that you're Light Yagami. I knew you'd be changed from your human form, but not to this extent. Frankly, you look awful."

Light glared sullenly at the apparition. "Thanks, I needed that after all I've gone through today," he snapped.

L looked up for a few seconds as if pondering this. "Yeah, death and all. Sorry about that."

"You think I like having this body?" Light went on.

"Well, no," L admitted. "But at least you don't have to look at it. And in case you weren't aware of it, you've, uh, got nothing on."

He paused to let this new revelation sink in. For the first time, Light actually scrutinized his body. L was right. He was mortified, and hastily returned his distressed gaze to the illuminated step and its occupant.

"You don't have to look all **that** miserable, Light. Count your blessings."

"Blessings?! Like what?" he shot back.

L pondered again, his thumb pushing up his upper lip. "Well, for one thing, the absence of mirrors." Seeing that Light didn't seem to appreciate his little attempt at humor, L continued hastily, "But seriously, consider that you're immortal if you want to be. You can't starve to death, or suffer in most of the ways you were subject to during mortal life. You received an exceedingly lenient sentence, seeing as many people get damned for just one murder. And,"—here he pointed to Light's shoulders—"you've got wings."

Startled, Light reached around behind his right shoulder with his left claw. Sure enough, there was a growth there. He tugged at it a bit, and new muscles responded by spreading red, bat-like wings to their full extent of almost seven feet. Astounded, delighted, he flapped them a bit, and rose several feet in the air. This was the first positive experience he'd had in the shinigami world. He grinned foolishly.

"This is great!" he crowed, as he set down again.

"Maybe so. But you're still not much to look at. The least you could do," continued L, looking down his nose in some distaste, "is to cover up as much as possible. I hope Ryuk—Ryuk **is** your mentor, right?..."

He glanced over at the black-clad death god. Ryuk nodded.

"…I hope Ryuk takes you clothes shopping." He cocked his head to one side, put a thumb and forefinger to his chin, and regarded Light appraisingly. "Let's see…what would look good?"

Light grew indignant, and shook a clenched claw at L. "Hold on, L!" he yelled. "Don't you presume to dispense advice in that area! You have less fashion sense than a weekend golfer!"

Ryuk cackled. "He's got you there, L!"

L rolled his eyes and nodded. "OK, fine. But here, put this on. You're not exactly eye candy." He waved his left arm and a snowy white sheet the size of a small tablecloth appeared. He tossed it down to Light.

Light snorted. "Trust you to put it in terms of candy!" He tied the sheet around his waist.

Ryuk cackled again. He had always enjoyed the verbal sparring between these two. Some things never changed.

L's eyes widened a bit. "Ah, thanks for reminding me—I almost forgot."

He glanced over to his right and waved his hand slightly. Immediately there appeared floating beside him a golden multi-tiered candy tray, laden with white, nut-filled fudge. He popped a piece into his mouth and closed his eyes in ecstasy.

"Mmmmm!"

Light was taken aback. "L, what are you doing?" he shouted.

L opened his eyes again, and replied in a voice a bit muffled by the fudge in his mouth. "It'f fnack time. I love thif stuff."

Thoroughly annoyed, Light snarled through clenched teeth, "I don't suppose you've thought to share?"

L grinned, and swallowed the fudge before replying. "Certainly." He conjured up a white box lined with gold foil, and dumped the rest of the fudge into it. The candy tray disappeared. A wave of his hand sent the still open box wafting gently down to Light.

"Here you go. I recommend making it last a good long time. It's all the divinity you're ever likely to experience."

"Oh, yeah," Ryuk interposed, snapping his fingers as he suddenly remembered something. He turned to Light. "He's right about making it last. It's probably going to take you a while to get used to having a shinigami stomach. There's slim pickin's for food around here, and new shinigami often get really hungry their first few weeks."

Light had just been about to take a big bite of fudge, but desisted long enough to retort irritably, "You've never been very good at giving the whole story, have you, Ryuk?" He crammed the fudge into his mouth.

The first taste transported him into a rapture. This was ten times better, no a hundred times better, no…in fact, the finest earthly foods couldn't begin to compare with this. Closing his eyes, he savored it as long as he could. He managed to take several minutes doing so. Finally he opened his eyes again to see L regarding him with a mirth bordering on glee.

"As I said," L remarked, nearly laughing, "don't eat it all at once. You could keep it for centuries without it drying out or going stale."

He turned his attention to Ryuk. "Speaking of food, Ryuk, you'll be happy to know that the council of the blessed has granted your request."

Ryuk's eyes nearly popped. "Really? When do I get it?"

L smiled kindly. "Right now. With a flourish of his wrist, he produced a gloriously shining red apple the size of a small pumpkin. Ryuk went nearly insane, and began drooling, holding his arms out longingly. L tossed it into the air, where it remained suspended at his eye level.

"Don't you eat it all at once, either. Make it last a week."

L made a chopping gesture with his index finger, and the shimmering apple split lengthwise into seven equal fragments. It had neither core nor seeds. He lowered the fruit, along with a silvery mesh bag, to the nearly frantic death god. Ryuk promptly devoured one segment, and placed the six remaining ones into the bag. Light, somewhat recovered from his ecstasy, watched as Ryuk underwent the same bliss as he had moments before, staggering off some distance as he relished the delicacy.

"Won't the other segments get all brown and mushy?" he asked.

"Not even if he held off on eating them for hundreds of years," replied L. "Which of course he won't. That's an apple from Paradise, which knows no decay."

Light had been coming to terms with his situation, actually approaching an almost equable disposition, thanks in large part to the heavenly fudge. But now the thought of his sworn enemy having unlimited access to such treats stirred up an ugly envy that darkened his mood once again.

"So," he grumbled, "I take it you're one of the blessed?"

L smiled broadly. "That's right. In fact, because of you, I ended up giving my life in the cause of justice. That places me among the martyrs, an exalted station indeed."

"So you came here to rub my nose in it."

L looked a little askance at him. "First of all, you hardly have any nose to rub. And second, the blessed never carry grudges. I just came to see how you were doing on your first day, and maybe help ease your transition to eternity."

By now, Ryuk had rejoined them, and was listening casually to the conversation.

Light suddenly thought of something. "Say, isn't my father also in Paradise?" L nodded. "Then why didn't he come instead of you?"

"He prefers to remember you as you were on Earth. He does send greetings, though, and asked me to do what I can for you."

Light spread his arms to indicate the surrounding terrain, and responded, "Well, you can start by fixing up this place. I'm not thrilled at the thought of living with this scenery forever."

L gazed around at the bleak landscape for some seconds, turning his head in several directions to take it all in. He wrinkled his nose and turned back to Light.

"Yeah, this is a dump alright, definitely the low-rent district. Smells bad, too. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do by way of renovation. The shinigami realm isn't supposed to be conducive to fun. That fudge may be your only source of pleasure for quite a few years."

Light sneered up nastily at L. "You've always thought of pleasure in connection with stuffing your face. There **are** other pleasures, in case you didn't know."

L took up the game. "Such as?" he asked innocently, his face betraying a trace of amusement.

Light drew himself up to his full height, crossed his arms, and grinned self-assuredly. "Ahem, let's just say I've got a sneaking suspicion that I'm not the worst-looking shinigami around here. And I understand there's such a thing as female shinigami."

Aghast, L sat up straight and stared at him dumbfounded, his owlish eyes growing rounder than ever. "You're kidding, aren't you? You don't honestly believe that you could…I mean, haven't you heard…didn't Ryuk tell you…?"

Light's grin turned to a suspicious frown. "Tell me what?"

L actually appeared a little embarrassed. "That ah, shinigami, um, can't have sex."

Light's face fell, horrified. He turned expectantly to Ryuk with an expression of savage, boiling wrath. Ryuk drew back at the sight of Light's fury, which had on occasion cowed him even on Earth.

"Well, Ryuk?" he roared.

Ryuk fairly squeaked, "Shinigami can't have sex."

Light stared at the ground, utterly stupefied with disbelief. L decided to take quick action. He held out his right hand toward Light, who had begun panting hard. Light stopped moving, frozen to the spot. Only his eyes still shifted about, conveying his blazing ire.

L looked down at him, and addressed him calmly. "Light, I've paralyzed you. I advise you not to struggle, as it will only make you worse off. When you can assure me that you will not go into a towering outburst, blink three times in rapid succession."

Ryuk walked around Light, looking him over curiously, relieved not to have to face another tantrum. "That's quite a trick, L. Could you teach it to me?"

"Sorry, Ryuk, no."

Several minutes went by. L conjured up a steaming cup of tea, and a dozen sugar cubes, which he dropped one by one into the cup from a height of about a foot. He sipped contentedly while he waited. Light's rage faded slowly, very slowly. At last he blinked three times, and L released him.

Light started staggering around as if drunk. "Well," he sang out nonchalantly, his bitter sarcasm almost palpable. "Ain't life grand?" He stopped, and peered up at L, a ghastly smile plastered on his face. "I suppose I'll have to find some small consolation in the fact that at least I've always been more successful with women than you, L."

L, who had finished his tea and dismissed the cup, averted his gaze and placed his fingertips together. "Ermm, well, during mortal life, yes. Yes, that's true."

Light adopted a threatening attitude. Continuing his dangerously sing-song tone, he inquired with phony sweetness, "And just exactly what does that mean, Angel-face? Don't make me come up there."

L rolled his eyes and sighed. "You might as well behave yourself, Light. You're acting like an idiot, and anyhow, there's no way you can harm me in the least. You still want an answer?"

Somewhat deflated, Light merely mumbled sullenly, "Yeah, sure."

"I'm married."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter contains a brief reference to Fullmetal Alchemist.

Home at Last – Chapter 4

"You?!" gasped Light. "You—married?"

"That's right," L answered, and his expression, which had been patronizingly benevolent, became joyous and enthusiastic. He held his fists to his chest and looked skyward. "And she's perfect! The minute she entered Paradise, I knew she was the one for me! A match literally made in Heaven!"

"Oh, geez," muttered Light, crossing his arms again, and glancing up in disgust at the enraptured L. "Anybody I know?"

L let his arms down and turned back to Light, his face still beaming. "I think so. Do you remember Kyoko Ueda?"

"Kyo—wait a minute, wasn't she that dumpy little four-eyed ditz that had a crush on you in college?"

L giggled. "She's not so dumpy now. Wanna see?" He reached into a pocket in his jeans and pulled out some photographs.

Light was taken aback. "Heaven's got cameras?"

"Yup." L flew down to stand beside Light, but his feet, instead of touching the gruesome surface of the ground, remained about an inch above it. He held a photo out for Light to see. "See? That's her," he exclaimed in childish delight.

Light was stunned. "**That's** Kyoko? She's…she's gorgeous! But…but she was nothing to look at back on Earth."

"Well, just as your appearance was changed for the worse to accord with the shinigami realm, hers was improved to accord with Paradise. That's what usually happens." He took the photo back and held it up over his head. Gazing up at it lovingly, he whirled around, scattering multi-colored scintillations as he turned. He stopped, coming face to face with Light.

Light drew in very close and sneered, "So why didn't they improve **your** appearance?"

L stared back at him, and grinned from ear to ear. "It wasn't necessary."

Exasperated, Light stamped off a few feet, then wheeled around to accost Ryuk indignantly. Jabbing a thumb in L's direction, he demanded, "Ryuk, are the blessed allowed to be that smug?"

Ryuk chuckled and replied, "Seems so." He turned to L. "So, any kids?"

L threw his arms wide and sang out happily, "I thought you'd never ask! I had no idea back on Earth that it would be so wonderful to have a family!" He brought his hands back down in front of him as if to indicate the size of a fish he'd just caught. His face lit up even more as he continued almost breathlessly, "We've got two, a girl named Akiko, and a boy named Katsuo, and they look just like me! And we've got a third one on the way!"

Light made a face. "Oh, peachy."

A small sheaf of photos appeared in L's right hand. He handed the stack of photos to Light; Ryuk peered curiously over Light's shoulder. "See what I mean?" L went on joyously. "They're the spittin' image of me!"

Light sighed and glanced down at the top photo, then looked impatiently back at L. "L, you need to have your eyes checked. This little girl on the trike doesn't resemble you at all!"

L's glee changed to puzzlement. "Really? Lemme see that." He took the photos back and peered closely at the first one. "Oh, you're right. She isn't my daughter. Her name is Elysia Hughes. If you think I'm a besotted father, you ought to see this kid's dad! Now let's see if I can find a really cute one…" He started shuffling through the photos.

"Now look, L," Light interrupted irritably, "I'm sure you've got just the most golly gosh lovely family, et cetera, but frankly, I'm not interested. Can we get back to the matter at hand?"

L's expression reverted to one of bland condescension. "As you wish," he replied, pocketing the photos. "The matter at hand, I take it, is you?"

Light became somewhat defensive. He was growing tired of being branded as self-centered, when he had sacrificed so much for the good of humanity on Earth. "Well," he murmured, "you did come for my benefit, didn't you?"

L nodded. "And to bring Ryuk his apple, yes."

"So what's there to do in this blah place, anyway? I'm going to go bonkers here."

Ryuk cackled. "Judging by your behavior so far, you already have." He cringed as Light shot him a hostile glare.

L conjured up a large, multicolored spiral lollypop, and started sucking on it absently while appearing deep in thought. "Well," he remarked at length, "I guess I could introduce you to a certain shinigami. Like you, he's a former human, and…"

Once again, the sharp pangs of homesickness pierced through Light. The wound was still raw, and he lashed back at L. Holding his claws up in a strangling gesture, he howled, "Don't say that! Don't ever say that again, you hear me?"

Ryuk drew in close to L's ear and held a hand up to the side of his mouth. "Oh, yeah," he confirmed in a dramatic stage whisper, "he's pretty touchy about that."

"Ah, I see," L replied. "Well, OK. Anyway, this shinigami has kept quite busy since he got here. I've actually been helping him with his activity. I'll let him tell you about it—once I wake him up, that is. You may have noticed that none of the other inhabitants have come up to us since I arrived. That's because I've cast a sound sleep on them. If I hadn't, they'd be clamoring around me like fans at a rock concert."

"Asking for your autograph?" sneered Light sarcastically.

"Asking for favors. The blessed come down here only rarely, and the shinigami naturally want to make the most of a visit. The one sleeping on that pile of rocks over there is the one I'm going to wake up." He pointed with his lollypop.

Light looked over to where L was pointing. He had mistaken the sleeping death god for part of the rock pile.

L continued. "Remember how I told you that my appearance didn't need any improvement when I entered Paradise?" Light's sour glare told him that he did remember. "Well, this guy didn't need much of a makeover to conform to this realm. You'll see." He called out to the heap curled up on the stones. "Hey, Kyosuke! Come over here!"

The shinigami stirred, stretched, and sat up. He still looked like a bunch of rocks. Rising slowly, he ambled over to the trio at the foot of the cliff.

"Hi-Higuchi?" stammered Light. "I remember you!"

The shinigami looked startled, and seeing Light, an expression of pure hatred seized his face. "And I know you, Yagami!" Higuchi snarled back. "You're the one who killed me!" He kicked Light savagely on the left shin.

"Ow! Why you—" Light moved to return the favor.

"Light!" L raised his voice imperiously and shook his lollypop in warning. "Admit it. You had that coming. Now calm down if you don't want to be paralyzed again."

Huffing furiously, Light shut up, but continued trading poisonous glares with Higuchi.

"You might want to come to reasonably amicable terms with each other," L continued. "Higuchi is the only shinigami I know who actually has a business."

"The only one I know of, too," remarked Ryuk.

L assumed the air of a teacher leading a discussion group. "Suppose you tell us about it, Kyosuke?" He went back to sucking on his candy.

Higuchi twisted his mouth into a grotesque shape that was his version of a smile. "Sure, L." He looked again at Light with a mixture of distaste and superiority, then launched into what was clearly a well-rehearsed sales pitch. "I run a tour company, Dante Travels. The repertoire of destinations is still rather limited, but quite a few of my fellow shinigami"—he seemed proud to claim them as his fellows—"are in fact repeat customers."

In spite of himself, Light found himself intrigued by the spiel. "So where do you go?" he asked in a tone of genuine interest.

"Hell."


	5. Chapter 5

Home at Last – Chapter 5

Light was flabbergasted. "A tour company that takes its clients to hell? That's bizarre!"

Higuchi let out a hollow laugh. "There are some tour companies on Earth whose services amount to nearly the same thing." He looked upward and pursed his lips. "I know whereof I speak. Anyway, our tours range all the way from 'Coward's Cruise,' which is limited to a trip to the outer circle outside the gate, to a full-blown, 14-day vacation that takes in all the circles." He aimed a ghastly, toothy grin at Light. "I'd be delighted to give you a discount for a one-way ticket on the 'Satan's Circle' tour."

"Enough of that, Kyosuke," admonished L. He had already finished the lollypop. "You'll be glad to know that you can now expand your selection. You've been approved to offer riding tours of Purgatory."

Higuchi's eyes widened happily. "Not bad, not bad. Be nice if the tourists could get out and fly around, like in hell, but I'll take what I can get."

Light grinned wryly. "You've changed even less on the inside than on the outside." Ryuk cackled.

Higuchi ignored the remark. He had sized Light up quickly, and figured out that being ignored was one thing he couldn't endure. Addressing L and Ryuk, he waved his hand in the direction of a bleak hillside. "My operation's over that way, about a mile, if you care to see it." He unfurled tattered gray wings and took off. The other three followed at a slight distance.

Light was gratified to find that he was taking to flying with no effort. Looking around at the land, though, was far less gratifying. As far as the eye could see, it was barren rock, fetid pools of brown water, here and there a length of chain draped between boulders or coiled in a heap, and scanty, thorny vegetation.

Higuchi led them to a low hill, the far side of which had crumbled into what looked like a roughly semicircular amphitheater. To one side, large stones had been lined up to form an aisle that led up to…a school bus. The vehicle had definitely seen better days; rust had corroded almost through the sides and top in places, and the paint was nearly gone. The window panes that weren't missing were cracked or broken into shards. Higuchi alit in front of it, and stretched his arms out to one side, like a game-show host presenting a prize.

Ryuk let out a low whistle. "Whoa, where'd you get that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Higuchi replied smugly.

Light stared at the bus with undisguised disdain. "What a hunk of junk!"

Higuchi laughed harshly. "For your information, Light Skywalker, this is the only conveyance in the entire shinigami realm. It holds up well enough to take three loads of paying tourists a week to the city dolent." He turned to L, an almost regretful expression on his face. "Oh, by the way, L, the last time I went, I saw your old protégé Mello boarding Charon's boat."

The glow radiating from L's face diminished just the slightest. He looked blankly out into space for a few seconds. "Well," he sighed, "I can't say it's a surprise. But the person he became is actually better off there than trying to fit into Heaven."

"Yeah, well, anyway," Higuchi mumbled uncomfortably, "I thought you'd want to know. Getting back to business..." his voice perked up, "I've got something more to show you." He walked over to a flat-topped rock and picked something up.

Coming back, he handed Ryuk and L each a glossy, full-color brochure. Light seethed, but wasn't about to let Higuchi see it. L paged through his copy. "Very professional. The section on the River Phlegethon is particularly well done."

Higuchi swelled up proudly, which did nothing to enhance his appearance. "Yes, I think so, too. I found a printer down there who's been in publications since the forties, and he does a top-notch job. What do you think, Ryuk?"

Ryuk handed the brochure back to Higuchi. "Yeah, I might try one of your three-day package deals, if I get bored again. And if you bring the price down quite a lot."

"Hah! When hell freezes over. I've got plenty of business without having to cut into my profits. Besides, now I have to get a whole new set of fliers printed up to include the Purgatory tours." He waved the brochures around. "Screwtape charges through the nose for these things."

Light had been pacing around impatiently some distance away. He had a sudden thought. "Hey, Higuchi," he called out as he strode toward the other three. "If you hate me so much, how come you didn't write my name in your death note years ago?"

Higuchi spat. "Don't think it wasn't tempting, Yagami, even with the second-degree agony as a penalty. Or maybe you're such an i**gnoramus**," he sneered, pausing to enjoy the effect the word had on Light, "that you don't even know the anti-revenge rule."

Light spun around to accost Ryuk again, eyes flaming.

Ryuk gazed nervously skyward, as if pondering. "Ah, yes, I was just about to mention that." He looked sheepishly over at Light, who was regarding him stonily. "One of the new rules is that you aren't allowed to kill anybody you knew on Earth. Vengeance is a human inclination, not a shinigami one, and you're supposed to take to your new, uh, status as soon as possible. By the way, the second-degree agony is something you definitely don't want to experience."

Exasperated, Light stomped down hard enough to send the bones flying. "In other words," he barked, "I can't touch that dolt Matsuda, who shot me, or that traitorous fink Mikami, or that insufferable snot Near!"

"Yeah, pretty much," Ryuk replied matter-of-factly with a shrug.

L cleared his throat. "Well, ah, we'd best be going. Good luck with the expansion, Kyosuke."

Light, Ryuk and L flew back to the low cliff where L had landed. The beam of sparkling light remained undiminished. L took up his place on the ledge again and addressed Light, who was sulking petulantly. "So you see, Light, there are things to do here if you put your mind to it. And you've noticed that some of your fellow shinigami are old friends."

Light grimaced. "News flash, L. Higuchi isn't exactly a friend."

L again pushed up his upper lip. "True, but there's also Kyomi Takada. Hmm, on second thought, I wouldn't hasten to renew my acquaintance with her if I were you. She's, ah, rather peeved with you at the moment."

Ryuk cackled loudly and slapped his knees. "Peeved?! Haw, haw! That's putting it mildly!"

L considered further. "Let's see...well, there will be several people you know coming down here in the next few years. Like Teru Mikami. He won't be long in getting here, even if you don't kill him, which, as Ryuk pointed out, is inadvisable."

"Oh, goody!" Light sang out sarcastically. "I told you - he's a traitorous fink, and besides, he has the personality of a cinder block. But I guess you'll say cleverly that that will make him fit in all the better here."

L grinned good-naturedly. "You beat me to it." He snapped his fingers, his eyes brightening. "And of course, there's Misa Amane. She'll end up here even though she's lost her memories of the Death Note. Shouldn't be too long, either. Death note owners don't survive very long on Earth, you know."

Light half-turned away from L and snorted contemptuously. "Everybody know **that!"** He glared again at Ryuk, who was cackling maniacally.

L continued his train of thought. "I'm sure she'll still love you, too, Light," he went on earnestly. "You can look forward to thousands of years of her clinging to you in adoration."

Light gasped and nearly gagged. Almost physically sick, he glowered up at L. "You're just one wad of good news after another, aren't you?"

L shrugged and gave a wan little smile. "It's more than most inhabitants of this place get."

Light looked down and sighed, kicking half-heartedly among the bones at his feet. Raising his eyes again, he faced L glumly. "L, I'm actually begging you, isn't there any escape from here? Could I at least go to Earth and haunt somebody?"

Ryuk spoke up. "I'll answer this one, L. After all, I know the place better than you do."

"Mmm, which is fine with me," L replied, wrinkling his nose, and again looking around with disgust. He conjured up a root beer float.

Ryuk laced his bony fingers together, and stretched his arms out in front of him before continuing. "Basically, this is the angelic version of limbo. Just as humans who aren't fit for heaven or hell go to limbo, the angels who are fit for neither place came here. We aren't heavenly messengers like the blessed angels, or tempters like the demons. We just put an end to humans' mortal lives."

"You haven't answered my question at all, Ryuk," Light complained crabbily.

Ryuk held his hand up. "No need to be impatient. One thing we have in abundance here is time, and you have to learn this anyway. So…where was I? Oh, yeah. Humans who use a death note are considered shinigami, and so they end up here. There is no escape."

L looked up from his float, and put on a sardonic little smile. "After all that, you answered incorrectly. There is an escape."

To Light's annoyance, Ryuk leaned an elbow on his shoulder and remarked, "OK, so I didn't know about that. Has anybody ever done it?"

"A few," L answered. He slurped noisily at his float before continuing. "Let me tell you about two of them."


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter is an excursion from the main plot line, sort of a story within a story.

Home at Last – Chapter 6

"Remara of Cordignon lived during a time of political unrest. Born into a powerful and aristocratic family, she displayed from her earliest years a fierce devotion to her kinsmen. Her father, Duke Alexander, absented himself for long periods of time to deal both with commerce and with war. The fatherly duties to the headstrong maid, therefore, devolved upon her brother Gelius, nine years her senior.

"Gelius, though vigilantly protective of his sister in all matters pertaining to the family's good name and reputation, yet indulged—more than most fathers would—such of her whims as would not compromise honor. She thus received an education in both literature and science, and even developed some knowledge and skill in the arts of war.

"Remara was tall, thin and pale, with an aspect that was stern bordering on severe. Her mother Eunice spent most of her time in vanities and vapid socializing, leaving to her capable young daughter the responsibility of managing the household. Gelius, though impeccable in manner and serious in mind, yet balanced these traits with a love of high society and its many functions. Remara regarded them merely as opportunities to advance the family's political standing.

"One such event was the Governor's gala in celebration of the vernal equinox, in Remara's (privately held) opinion a particularly frivolous waste of time and money. The year after she turned fifteen, Gelius, much to her disapproval, spent a great deal of time at the palace to assist in the preparations. His true motive became manifest during the ball itself. The Governor, with Duke Alexander, Duchess Eunice and Gelius at his left and his wife Fabiana and son Edwin at his right, summoned Remara from the crowd. To general applause, and a dismay that Remara was at pains to conceal, His Excellency announced the betrothal of his son Edwin to the Duke's daughter.

"The gentlemen involved in this romantic plot had intended it as a delightful surprise for Remara. It took the exercise of all of her strict upbringing not to disillusion them. Edwin was a disgrace to his noble blood, in his dissipated habits, foul temper, stupidity and careless deportment. Remara briefly considered falsely announcing a previous determination to enter the convent.

"On a fair spring morning shortly afterward, Remara took her copy of the seventh book of Euclid's Elements to a stone bench on a high, south-facing terrace of the family castle. For her, the study of mathematics was a respite from domestic duties and external intrigues. Her mother had taken ill, and the war with the Tharacens had followed her father to the very walls of Cordignon. The battle was not going well, and Gelius had gone out to join in the fighting, after anxiously extracting from his sister a solemn promise to observe the strict propriety appropriate to a betrothed maiden.

"At one particularly difficult passage in The Elements, on commeasurables, Remara lifted her head and closed her eyes in thought. When she opened them again, they lit on a sunny corner of the terrace, where stood a large stone planter, its flowers still small and timid. At the base of the planter lay a black book. She was annoyed—books were expensive treasures not to be left to the caprices of the weather. She arose and went to pick it up.

"Immediately the morning sun to her left was darkened. Remara turned around and gasped (any other girl would have screamed her lungs out). Before her stood a hunched, skeletal apparition. Remara, speechless with fright, backed away against the terrace wall. She looked frantically around to find someone, anyone, to come to her aid, but in vain.

"The thing spoke genially to her, and made no threatening move. He told her of the realm of the gods of death, and of the powers of the book she had picked up. Remara's terror gave way slowly to fascination, then conviction. What divine providence to obtain such power, at such a time, when her city and her family needed it the most! Still she doubted; it was unheard of that simply writing down a person's name could cause his demise. And the thought that it might succeed turned even her strong stomach.

"While she considered these matters, an elderly servant approached from the room next to the terrace. Remara became alarmed to think how he would react to the sight of the death god, but he showed no evidence of seeing it, and indeed looked straight through it to speak to her. Her fiancé had arrived at the castle to pay her a visit, and commanded her presence in the parlor.

"If Remara's stomach had been churning before, this summons made her positively nauseous. But she obeyed. Making her best effort at a graciously pleased expression, she descended to the parlor. Edwin's drunken, squalid condition evoked disgust, but no surprise, and Remara managed to keep the smile frozen on her face. When he attempted liberties to which he had as yet no right, however, she let out a little scream, and easily repulsed him. His valet hastened to help him to an armchair at some distance from the offended maid.

"Remara suggested a diversion. She pointed out Edwin's well-known love of poetry and the theatrical arts (it was well-know to be nearly nonexistent), and declared that she would write him a love poem on the spot. Taking out a curiously bound book of blank paper, she wrote his name at the beginning of several lines of verse, reciting them as she wrote. Flattered, Edwin grinned stupidly, and made ready to embrace her again. But hardly had she completed a stanza when the young man clutched at his chest and emitted a long, loud groan as he toppled to the floor. Remara, the valet, and the servants rushed to his side, too late to save him.

"While some attendees at Edwin's funeral cynically viewed his passing as a fitting reward for his dissolute life, others could not refrain from a more romantic explanation. Clearly, he had swooned in rapture as his lovely fiancée wrote of her love for him. And there she was, her black drapings emphasizing all the more her almost ghastly paleness. She looked sick and frail, and leaned on her brother for support. More than a few wept for pity at her grief.

"Remara soon recovered from the shock of discovering at first hand the efficacy of the death book. She determined to employ it in helping to turn the tide of the war that waged so close at hand. A trusted servant conducted her carriage perilously close to the battlefield, so close that she could see, near the foot of the wall below, individual Tharacen soldiers. Now, with no small trepidation, she bravely sacrificed half of her remaining life for the ability to spy out the names of the enemies of Cordignon. These immediately began dropping dead, one by one, many through no evident battle wounds.

"Remara returned to her post day after day, each time with the same effect. Finally, the Tharacen general, confused and in a near panic, called a retreat, and his army fled some distance from the city walls. Alexander's troops, exhausted, made no effort to follow them."

At this point, Light, whose wavering attention had perked up at the part where Remara acquired her "death book", interrupted. "Stupid girl!" he snorted. "I'll bet she never gave ten seconds' forethought to what she was doing."

L fished out a lump of ice cream, and glanced over at Light with an admiring smile. "You, on the other hand, thought of everything! Months in advance!" He gulped down the ice cream and stared off into space, reminiscing happily.

"More than you did," Light smirked. "I think I know what happens next in your story."

"Fire away, then," replied L. He tilted his head back and emptied the last few drops of the root beer float into his mouth. With a flick of his wrist, the glass disappeared.

Light took up the narrative. "Remara, like most people of her stripe, was probably a creature of habit. I'll bet she went to the outskirts of the battlefield every day at the same time. Well, the Tharacen officers weren't dummies. They must have noticed that the unexplained deaths of their soldiers started at the same time every day. And they didn't occur after sunset, when Remara couldn't see their faces. So the General sent spies to find out what was going on. It wouldn't take long to figure out that Remara was connected to the deaths. They undoubtedly made an attempt to kidnap her. The rest of the story depends on how successful the attempt was."

L was resting his chin on his hands, and enjoying every word. "Your reasoning skills, as always, are superb. The Tharacens did succeed in kidnapping Remara. Please go on." A wave of his hand produced a china dessert plate bearing a large slice of strawberry cheesecake and a silver fork.

Light was enjoying himself, too. Getting into the mind of another Kira took him back to his own happy times as Kira, and all his elaborate plans and complex thinking. He almost forgot where he was. He continued the story.

"The Tharacens, of course, confiscated the death note, and several of them saw the death god. If I had been in Remara's situation at that time, I'd want to be sure they couldn't or wouldn't use it against my city. So she probably told them some tall tale about how they'd all be damned if the note wasn't returned to her." He looked up at L for confirmation.

L had started in on the cheesecake during Light's discourse. He looked back at Light, brushed the crumbs off his chin, and nodded. "Pretty close. Actually, she didn't want it returned to her, because then the Tharacens would force her to write the names of her countrymen. She wanted a delegation to return it to her family. She said the family would destroy it in a special ritual. Keep going."

"OK. Let's see…" Light hesitated a bit in thought before taking up the story again. "The Tharacens would have sent a delegation to the Cordignonese, summoning either her father or her brother. It would be easy to make them agree to it, since they had Remara hostage. Which one went?"

L swallowed a strawberry. "Her brother Gelius. You're really very good. However, you won't guess entirely what happened next, so I'll finish."

"Gelius, surrounded by Tharacen soldiers, arrived at the tent where his sister was being kept under close guard. Remara was horrified to see him brought to the enemy camp. She had expected the book instead to be delivered to him, to be destroyed under careful Tharacen watch. She now realized that, once having destroyed it, he himself would forthwith be put to death. She bitterly regretted ever having seen the accursed book.

"Remara herself had been sentenced to death, but not for the deaths of the Tharacen soldiers. This was, after all, a time of war, and killing the enemy was an honorable act. Both sides recognized this. But they believed Remara to be a sorceress, plainly in league with the demon who followed her everywhere. She had even commanded him to kill all those present, but he had laughed a hellish laugh, and disobeyed.

"Gelius indignantly denied such a portrayal of his sister. He was shocked, therefore, when she tearfully admitted being the possessor of the monstrous book. The guard handed the thing to her, commanding her to turn it over to Gelius. At sword point, she gave it over to her brother. Gelius now saw the hideous god of death, but what pained him even more was to see his sister's misery, her hysterical weeping, her choking plea for forgiveness. She avowed that if she had known that the use of the book would harm even a hair on his head, she would never have touched it.

"Gelius, still flanked by enemy soldiers, perused the death book. Hundreds of names, neatly etched in Remara's own florid handwriting, were inscribed therein. Doubtless enemy soldiers all. A solemn gladness swelled his heart. She would die, but die a patriot's glorious death. She would be a perpetual honor to the family.

"But then he turned back to the very first page, and his gladness became thorns, his heart frozen. There was Edwin's name, the first words in the entire book, in the same unmistakable hand. Heartbroken, he began shouting imprecations and curses at Remara, causing her to weep all the harder, and to beg forgiveness all the more.

"The Tharacens wasted no time. The general and his advisors led the way to the place of execution, a short distance from the tent. A stake had been set up, with dry straw piled abundantly at the foot of it. Torches had been placed in a fire close at hand. Gelius, his heart torn, watched at they bound his once-beloved sister to the stake. Once-beloved? No. He could not deny that he loved her still, and could not bear to see her die in agony, as a sorceress, at Tharacen hands.

"He still carried the death book His right hand darted to his left side. In one motion, Gelius drew his dagger and slashed at the soldiers guarding him. Frantically, before the stunned guards could react, he stabbed his own arm and wrote Remara's name in blood in the book. Now he himself cried for forgiveness, for he had murdered the person whom he loved most in all the world. Next to hers, he wrote his own name, and renouncing the demonic death book, cast it into the fire."


	7. Chapter 7

Home at Last – Chapter 7

L took another bite of the cheesecake before continuing. "You may have guessed by now, Light, that Remara became the shinigami Rem. Her brother, whom you may not have heard of, became Gelus in this realm. It was they who escaped."

Baffled by this last statement, Ryuk chimed in. "But they both violated the shinigami code and used the death note to extend Misa Amane's life. They turned to sand and ceased to exist."

"That's right!" Light nearly shrieked, panic growing inside him once again. "Ceasing to exist isn't what I meant by escape!"

"It's not what I mean by it either," L replied placidly. He licked the plate to get the last crumbs of the graham cracker crust, then made the plate and fork disappear. "They were, in fact, at last admitted to Paradise, after 617 years as shinigami."

"Doesn't that bother you, L?" demanded Light in amazement.

L looked slightly perplexed. He held out his arms. "Of course not. The more the merrier. The happiness of every saint is increased by that of all the others."

"But it was Rem who killed you," Light persisted.

"I told you the saints don't carry grudges. Besides, Rem was merely an instrument." L glanced sideways at Light with a wry smile. "You're the one who really killed me—no hard feelings. And I can't hate her, since she's now among the blessed, having escaped the shinigami fate."

Light became desperately hopeful. "But how?"

"There are three conditions for escape, and they're rare. First, the shinigami must, like you, be a former hu—ah, must have used a death note in mortal life. Second, unlike you, he or she must have repented of it before death. And third, the shinigami must perform an act of pure selflessness."

"But, L," Light exclaimed in near hysterics, reaching up toward the ledge on which L sat, "I did repent, at the very end! In those last few seconds I wished I'd never seen a death note."

L regarded him sympathetically. "You regretted it, Light, because your plan failed and you were dying young. But you didn't repent of the evil…and you always knew deep down that it **was** evil. Besides, even if that condition could be waived, the fact is, you're incapable of a selfless act." He held up a hand to forestall Light's protest. "You can be thankful not to have been damned, but you'll never escape from here. Maybe in a few hundred years they'll let you haunt somebody."

"And by then," Ryuk interjected, you probably won't care all that much."

The shattering disappointment left Light completely weary, unable to argue anymore. But the conversation had gotten him thinking, and even a slight intellectual exercise made him feel more like his old self. He looked over at Ryuk.

"Didn't you say that a shinigami can die if he doesn't write a name in his death note for a long time?"

"Yeah," answered Ryuk. "I've seen it happen once or twice. Just like Rem and Gelus, they also turn to sand. I heard that Shidoh was only a couple of weeks away from dying when he got his death note back."

"Just out of curiosity," Light pursued, turning to L, "do those shinigami cease to exist?"

L put a fist to his chin and turned his head from side to side as he pondered the question. At length he answered, "Huh. I don't know. Do you, Ryuk?"

Ryuk shook his head. "I don't know either, and I have no intention of finding out the hard way. Not that that will be a concern any time soon." He aimed a thumb at Light. "I just got more than 50 years out of this guy here." He ended with another cackle.

Light gave him a dirty look. "You're welcome," he snapped.

An awkward silence ensued. Light felt hollow and utterly drained of emotion. He looked bitterly up at L. "Well, O Blessed One, do you have any more business here?"

"Nope, that's it for now. I should be getting back anyway. I want to catch my favorite TV show."

"Heaven's got TVs?"

"It's got everything you could want. And this show is great. It's an old American program about a brilliant but somewhat eccentric detective in Los Angeles. He's quite appealing even though he sort of slouches all the time and dresses like an unmade bed. And get this—the audience is never told his full name. Kind of preposterous, I guess, but hey, that's TV. Well, I'll be off, then. Sayonara, Light."

L stood up and stretched out his wings. One powerful beat of those wings sent him retracing his arcing path back up the glittering beam of light. Ryuk and Light watched as he passed through the somber overcast. The light beam narrowed and dimmed, finally disappearing altogether. The glitter on the ground nearby would continue to cast its multicolored glow for several days.

Light continued to stare at the spot for a moment. L had been getting on his nerves, and he'd been glad to see him go. But he now realized that he would probably miss the shining radiance after a very short time in this gloomy realm.

"OK, Light, we should get going too," Ryuk remarked at last. He put a hand on Light's shoulder and steered him away from the cliff. "The first procedure is an audience with the old man." He spread his wings and started to fly off. Light hesitated for a few seconds, glanced once more at the lifeless cliff face, and then unfurled his own wings, following his mentor deep into his new home.

— **END** —


End file.
